Whispers in the Dark
by Nienyan
Summary: [Mid Main Arc] Asbel never saw Richard cry; despite the horrible events that befell the prince, he didn't witness a single tear being shed. Until, one night, the knight is awakened by the sound of muffled sobbing...


**Whispers in the Dark**

It wasn't easy falling asleep when he couldn't stop worrying about his friend's safety.

As Asbel shuffled between the rough sheets - of course, he couldn't expect much of a humble roadside inn - he glanced at the figure sleeping in the bed beside his. No, he wasn't even sure that Richard was actually asleep, for the prince had his back turned to him, and his breathing was so soft that Asbel could barely hear it. Still, he hoped that Richard was able to rest, and that his dreams could bring him some peace. He needed it, after everything he had been through.

Five nights had passed since the day Asbel found Richard running for his life in the Barona Catacombs. He saved him, helped him escape, and accompanied his flight on foot all the way to Wallbridge. The journey had been rough on them; their fear of pursuit was too great to let them travel openly on the road, and their haste didn't allow for more than a few hours of sleep every night. Even then, resting was always carried out in the woods; venturing into an inn was unthinkable, as knights everywhere had orders to capture the prince. Only after passing Wallbridge - done with the help of the odd Pascal - they could allow themselves to breathe. In Duke Dalen's land, they were safer from Cedric's men. Not as safe as they wished - not until they reached Gralesyde - but for now, they could allow themselves the luxury of staying at an inn.

Pascal took to a room with Sophie. Asbel felt uncomfortable at leaving the girl alone with the eccentric woman, but Pascal had proven to be trustworthy, and he knew Sophie could defend herself. And, above all, he knew he had to stay with Richard. He was the only one who could protect him.

And now, fearing that an assassin might break in at any moment, Asbel was forced to keep his sleep light. He needed to be ready for an eventual emergency; as Richard's knight, that was his duty. And yet, there was another issue that helped him stay awake - a worry that, regardless of his resolve, wouldn't allow him to sleep.

During all this time, Richard didn't cry.

Of course, it was understandable that the prince wouldn't stop and weep while they were on the run. It was obvious that he wouldn't bawl his eyes out in front of a stranger like Pascal. But why didn't he open up when he and Asbel were alone?

Wasn't he sad at his father's death? Even if he hadn't been very close to him, the fact that his own uncle was the murderer should've had an effect on the prince. Not to mention that Richard claimed to have hidden among the corpses - how terrifying must it have been? And then he ran, all alone, staggered through the secret passage, his wounded body weakening as he bled, his steps errant in the darkness...

Just thinking about it made Asbel's chest hurt.

And yet, there Richard was. Calm and composed - and sleeping peacefully, apparently. Was he bottling up all his suffering? Was he trying to bear everything on his own, like Asbel himself so often attempted to do? He remembered what that had amounted to: his breakdown under a pouring rain, in front of Sophie, whom he was supposed to take care of. He didn't want Richard to end up like that. However... he couldn't simply intrude. It would be more than impolite; Richard might be offended, might believe that Asbel assumed he was weak, might feel as if Asbel's actions were born out of condescension.

In the end, Asbel couldn't do anything. Feeling defeated, he closed his eyes, and drifted off to unconsciousness.

His sleep was feeble and troubled, with disturbing dreams that soon dragged him back into awareness. Asbel opened his eyes, trying to bring focus into his blurry, slumber-heavy vision - but it was a noise that claimed most of his attention. His body froze upon hearing it, afraid someone had broken into the room; he steadied his breathing, trying to be as soundless as possible as he sought to identify what it was and where it was coming from. It was a slow process, as his senses were dulled from both sleepiness and tiredness, but he soon realized what was happening.

Richard was crying.

And it could hardly be called crying, for it was an incredibly soft sound. Richard was attempting to hide it, to make as little noise as possible, to leave his body almost immobile. And yet, even in the darkness, Asbel saw the prince's back tremble slightly, and occasionally a broken sob would slip through Richard's efforts at being silent.

Watching - and listening - tore at Asbel's heart. Richard was suffering; and yet he wanted to look strong, to appear like the proper ruler he was aiming to be. Asbel understood it, knew the burden of concealing one's vulnerable side from others, but he also knew how painful and difficult that was. He didn't want Richard to cry alone at night, to agonize silently, to put on a mask of composure while he was breaking down on the inside. He wanted Richard to have a person, only one single person, to confide. A shoulder to cry on, someone to give comfort - and who would do that for Richard?

Who _could_ do that, other than Asbel himself?

With newfound resolution, the knight propped himself to a sitting position, trying not to make a sound. He stepped out of his bed, as slowly and quietly as possible, and soundlessly walked towards Richard's sleeping form. He stood overlooking the prince's back, his _trembling_ back, and from there he could hear his sobbing more clearly.

He wouldn't let Richard suffer like this.

In a single movement, Asbel sat on Richard's bed and gently placed a hand over the prince's shoulder. Immediately, he felt his friend freeze under his touch, his whole body tensing, his breath all but stopping, and no sound escaping from his lips. Richard was terrified - not because he thought a stranger was touching him, but because he _knew_ it was Asbel. He knew Asbel had found him in a broken, fragile state, and it scared him far more than the idea of being attacked by an assassin.

Asbel could sense his fear, and he understood what it meant to feel weak and exposed. But this was _Richard_, his friend, his _best friend_, and he wanted Richard to trust him, to rely on him, to not be ashamed of him. Asbel wanted to be Richard's rock, his protector, the one person that would bear Richard's sufferings and comfort him in the darkest of nights. He wanted to prove that Richard wasn't alone.

Asbel's hand moved from Richard's shoulder, descending along his arm in as tender a motion as Asbel could muster, as he softly whispered, "It's okay, Richard." The prince, however, remained frozen; and so Asbel took another step, lying on the bed next to Richard, his front facing the prince's back. He moved closer to his friend, slipping an arm around Richard's torso to hold him tightly, and again, he whispered, "Please don't bottle up like this. You... you shouldn't feel ashamed, Richard. I... cried a lot, too, when I was kicked from Lhant. It's natural, you know?" He took a deep breath. "Holding it back will only make you suffer more, so please... cry all you want. I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you."

Asbel felt Richard's back tremble against his chest, and soon the prince let out a broken sob. Afterwards, the trembling and the sobbing did not stop, and Richard cried, as loudly as he dared, and yet still quieter than Asbel thought he should. Asbel moved his hand to Richard's face, and felt the stream of warm tears; he wiped them away gently, brushing his fingers against Richard's cheek in a soothing gesture. It only served to intensify his sobbing and increase the flow of tears, but that was okay - Asbel wanted Richard to cry as much as he possibly could, to empty his chest of everything he had held back in the past days.

Pressing a hand on Richard's shoulder, Asbel guided the prince to turn, so that they faced each other. Richard immediately raised an arm to cover his swollen eyes, but Asbel caught it mid-motion, leaving the prince's teary expression exposed. Richard whimpered, trying to turn his head away, but he was stopped when he felt Asbel's touch upon him. The knight gently brushed golden locks from the prince's face, where they were plastered to his wet skin - and smiled. A subtle smile, born out of pure understanding and compassion; and in face of that expression Richard couldn't help but bury his face against Asbel's chest, sobbing loudly, grasping tightly at his friend, his best friend, his _first_ friend.

Asbel embraced him back, stroked his hair gently, his fingers trailing small circles on his scalp as he whispered words of comfort; _'It's okay, it's okay, Richard'_ over and over again. There they remained as the night grew old, and Asbel lost track of how long he spent by Richard's side, holding his friend tightly as he cried all the tears that he had ever held back. Eventually, the trembling of Richard's chest started to subdue, his sobs growing less frequent as his breathing slowly steadied. Asbel never stopped caressing him, or whispering gentle words, and soon he felt the prince shift in his arms, nest against the protective warmth of his chest - and then drift off to sleep. A smile rose to Asbel's lips, and soon, he joined Richard in his slumber.

* * *

Asbel didn't know what triggered his awakening, but he knew that the first thing he noticed was that he was alone in the bed. He shuffled towards a sitting position, his eyes scanning the room in a desperate search for someone.

Until he found Richard.

He was standing with his back towards Asbel, in the process of clasping his cape to his shortcoat, getting ready to hit the road once more. The window was open in the background, lending the room some much-needed brightness; and yet, there was still a certain melancholy in the atmosphere.

The knight remained still, gazing at his prince, wondering how he was feeling. Asbel hoped he hadn't overstepped any boundaries in the previous night, hoped Richard wouldn't feel uncomfortable with his presence, and above all, hoped his friend would no longer weep alone.

He was dragged away from his musings when he realized Richard had turned - and Asbel had been, unconsciously, staring at him. His mouth opened and closed as he tried to come up with an apology, but Richard... smiled. A soft, shy smile, with an accompanying coloring of the cheeks. Not a hint of effort, not a mask at all. An honest, genuine smile.

Asbel grinned from ear to ear. That was the expression he always wanted to see upon Richard's face. A smile. Happiness. No tears, no sorrow. Those didn't suit his best friend at all.

The knight jumped out of bed, and joined the prince in the preparations for the journey ahead. They didn't speak; there was no need to. Richard knew Asbel would be there for him - and Asbel knew he would protect Richard, for as long as he lived.

No matter how far he would have to go.


End file.
